


Darkness Waiting

by SomebodyIUsetoKnow



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Smallville, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Child Neglect, Clark is Happy to give him one, Damian Wayne Free Zone, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Suicide Attempt (not really), boys crying, character death (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:53:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomebodyIUsetoKnow/pseuds/SomebodyIUsetoKnow
Summary: "Jumpers were always tricky. He could save them easily enough, but a lot of times they didn’t want to be saved.  And something about the teenager – his stature and the backpack dropped haphazardly on the gravel of the roof giving away his age  – was screaming at the hero that his interference wouldn’t be welcomed."The last thing Superman expected was to find a bruised and broken Dick Grayson standing on the ledge thirty-six stories above Tilton Avenue.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Clark Kent
Comments: 15
Kudos: 190





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a hodgepodge of universes. Batman & most of the JL come from the Comics, so Bruce is a bit of an asshole. Nightwing & the younger generation are inspired by the Young Justice cartoon, so Dick isn’t as traumatized as he is in the comics. Superman is similar to his representation in the Smallville television show and subsequent comic series, so Clark is significantly younger than many of the JL.
> 
> Timeline:  
> • Approx. 2 years before YJ Season 2 (ignoring the Light & Reach storyline completely because I can)  
> • Approx. 1 year after Smallville Season 10 (ignoring anything to do with Lois because I hate that woman)  
> • Pre-Crisis Batman era (ignoring New 52, Rebirth, and anything to do with the Al Ghul’s because I loathe everything about Damian Wayne)
> 
> Ages:  
> • Bruce Wayne/Batman: 36  
> • Clark Kent/Superman: 25  
> • Dick Grayson/Nightwing: 18  
> • Jason Todd/Robin: 15

* * *

_“Light thinks it travels faster than anything, but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”_ ― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

*

**_Metropolis, Delaware_ **

**_May 04, 2014 (02:15 EST)_ **

Clark loved nights like this.

When the world aligned, and he could just fly. No natural disasters, no maniacal evil plots, just the occasional quick save. Over the Sonora, skimming the warms waters of the South Pacific, into the upper atmosphere where he could watch the cosmos unhindered by pollution. Lazily weaving through the buildings that made up the Metropolis skyline that had become home as much as the farm.

He was considering heading for the Fortress when he saw him.

At first, he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, the figure tucked away beneath the shadows of the spire of the art-deco building of the Wayne Financial building. The figure was male, slender, not quite six feet, and dressed in pale jeans and a dark hoodie. The hood was draped over the head, his hands were tucked into pockets, and he was bare footed and standing only millimetres from the edge thirty-six stories above Tilton Avenue.

Superman’s heart leapt into his throat as he let himself slowly drift closer to the building. Jumpers were always tricky. He could save them easily enough, but a lot of times they didn’t _want_ to be saved. And something about the teenager – his stature and the backpack dropped haphazardly on the gravel of the roof giving away his age – was screaming at the hero that his interference wouldn’t be welcomed.

The youth was shifting his legs, lifting onto the balls of his feet for a second before planting his heals back on the brick of the ledge. Listening closely, Superman could hear the perfectly calm heartbeat and that terrified him. The boy was not scared at being so high, at being so close to the ledge, at what he was contemplating doing. In contrast, Superman’s pulse was racing as the action was repeated several times, seemingly an unconscious motion and he floated around the boy staying several yards away so as not to appear threatening. As he did, the boy’s profile came into view and Superman could not stop the swell of anger at what he saw.

The side of the face was one massive bruise, black and purple and yellow in its newness. It covered nearly the entire right side, from cheekbone to jawline and partially swelling the deep, ocean-blue eye closed. Both the upper and lower lips were split, a single diagonal cut near the corner of the mouth and crusted over with dried blood.

But it was the familiarity of the face that had him gasping. “Dick?”

It was obvious the boy hadn’t been aware of his surroundings as he startled at the voice that signalled he was no longer alone. Unfortunately, the sudden movement came when he was lifting onto his toes and, when he jerked toward the sound, Dick Grayson lost his balance and careened over the edge.

Shocked at seeing the younger vigilante in Metropolis – and at the fact that the acrobat with near perfect balance had fallen – it took Superman a few seconds to surge into motion. Dick was falling past the halfway point, his back toward the ground and an incredulous expression on his face; a single eyebrow arched in question as if to ask _‘Well, what are you waiting for?’_. Superman caught him easily, slowing their descent before reversing and taking them back up to the roof.

As soon as their feet touched the gravel, Dick spun in the hold and hit his fist against the symbol of Superman’s uniform. “Are you insane! You don’t sneak up on someone like that! If you were anyone else, you would have killed me!”

“Wait, what?” Confused at the sudden shift of the situation, Superman gaped at the young man in his arms. “I thought – you looked like you were – I’m sorry?”

“Seriously?” Dick pushed with both hands against Superman’s chest and disentangled himself from the hero. He took a couple of steps away before sighing as his body seemed to droop and his face betrayed his weariness. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself, Superman, I was thinking. But thank you for wanting to help me.”

“I didn’t know it was you.” He cringed at how that sounded even before he noticed the teenager tensing again. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t think it would be you. Crap! I wasn’t expecting you – wow, I haven’t stuck my foot in my mouth like this since I was your age.”

The tension in Dick’s shoulders lessened as he chuckled and smiled with only half his face. “Forget it, I get what you’re trying to say.” He turned his back to Superman and padded across the small stones to where the backpack rest.

Superman watched him closely, noticing the nearly imperceptible limp that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else and the stiff way he held his torso. Instinctively, Superman shifted to his x-ray vision. Nightwing had just returned from a week long mission in Kazakhstan with some of the older members of the Young Justice team, but Superman had read the mission report. The team had sustained no injuries, and there had been nothing that would explain the level of bruising he was seeing on the younger man’s body. Chest, calves, forearms, knuckles; all evidence of a fight.

The anger he had set aside made a reappearance when he got a closer look at Dick’s face.

In the last twenty-four hours, someone had stuck Dick hard enough to fracture not one but _three_ of the bones of his friend’s face.

“Want to tell me what happened?” The Man of Steel asked quietly, his arms crossing over his chest to hide the fists his hands had clenched in to.

Dick crouched down and picked up the backpack, briefly looking over his shoulder at Clark. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing.” His lips pressed together at the stubbornness of Bats. “Nothing has you black and blue, a couple hundred miles from home, and standing on the edge of a roof of a skyscraper at two o’clock in the morning. I’m not buying it.”

“Let it go, Kal.” Dick sighed as he stood and made his way back to the ledge, to where his shoes and shocks were tucked up against the bricks. “Bruce just forgot-”

Clark was beside him in an instant, gently taking hold of the man’s arm and turning Dick to face him. “Bruce did this?”

“Back off!” Dick snarled and shoved, and Superman let himself be moved.

He could hear the anger and fear. The grief…? He raised both his hands in surrender as he watched the man’s body practically coiled like a wounded animal. “Hey, I’m just worried Dick. When you tell me one of my friends does this to one of his kids-”

“I’m not.” Dick murmured and turned his head away, watery eyes staring out over the city. “I’ve never been his kid. Not like Jason…”

There were so many things wrong with that statement, but it was the way Dick’s voice choked on his little brother’s name that had the worry Clark had been feeling since he first saw the boy on the ledge twisting in the pit of his stomach. “Dick, you’re scaring me. Talk to me, please.”

His heart clenched when a tear rolled over the vivid bruise. Only to break with the whisper of two words that should never have been uttered together.

“Jason’s dead.”

Of all the things he anticipated, that hadn’t even entered his mind. He wanted to deny it, to tell Dick that he was wrong, but one look at the young man’s grief was truth enough. Without thought, Clark drew the quietly weeping boy into his arm. One arm was sturdy around Dick’s waist while the other held the back of his head tenderly as it fell against the Superman crest. Clark’s own tears blurred his vision as he tucked his head until it was resting atop dark locks of hair.

Dick was stiff for only a second before he was wrapping his own arms around Clark and clutched at the fabric of the cape. Dick’s shoulders shook with silent sobs, and Clark stood stalwart, just holding him.

**_Smallville, Kansas_ **

**_May 04, 2014 (03:00 EST)_ **

Some time later, when Dick’s crying was spent, the pair were sheltered in the quiet of Kansas. They were inside the barn, legs dangling over the ledge of the loft doors, staring up at the multitude of stars and the waxing moon. Clark had changed out of his suit and dressed in well-worn jeans, a t-shirt and flannel shirt. He had an arm around Dick’s waist, holding the younger man against his side while Dick’s head rested on his shoulder. “What happened?”

“Joker.” Dick croaked, his voice thick with rage and hate and Clark completely understood. “I – I don’t know all the details, just that Robin was missing for two days and there was an explosion and then… Jay was gone.”

His mind spiralling with the information, Clark thought over everything he had learned. Things weren’t adding up and the conclusions he was coming to were not helping. “When?”

“Robin went missing the night _before_ I left with the team for Kazakhstan.”

“What the hell!”

Dick wiped away the moisture remaining on his cheeks. “I got back to the Cave last night to find Alfred sealing the case containing Robin’s uniform. It was – God, Clark! It’s what Jay had been wearing when he… It was burned and bloody and the mask was in pieces, and the whole thing was just… grotesque! There was even a fucking plaque! _A Good Soldier_ , that’s what it said!”

Clark felt nauseous.

“Batman was still out on patrol.” Dick was quiet when he continued. “Alfred… Alfred was so broken, Clark. He begged me to forgive him, told me he tried to stop Bruce but… we all know how he can be. When he decides something, there’s no changing his mind. And… god, he’d already buried him Clark!”

Tears stung Clark’s eyes and for the first time in his life he could honestly say he hated someone. He _hated_ Bruce Wayne! Turning he pressed his lips to the top of Dick’s head.

“Alfred told me he tried to have Bruce pull me from the mission in Kazakhstan as soon as they realized Jay was missing.” There were so many emotions warring in Dick’s words, but he could hear the young man grasping and clawing into his anger to keep the grief at bay. “They’d known it was Joker from the start, but Bruce said the mission was necessary. That the information we would gather was more important. _More important?_ Jason is – was his son for Chrissake! Alfred listened to him, as he always does, trusting him to find Robin like he’s done in the past. Two days, Clark. Jay was alive, a prisoner of the Joker for _two fucking days_! He would have been waiting for Batman – God, waiting for me! – _anyone_ to save him from that fucking psychopath!”

“You didn’t know!” Clark insisted, wanting to rid the self-loathing he could fee radiating from Dick. “None of us did!”

“And I will never forgive Bruce for that.” Dick shook his head. “I’ve been where Jason was, Clark. There were times I was so desperate for rescue that I nearly called for you – for Superman – because I knew wherever you were, you’d be listening. But I didn’t because I knew Batman would have been pissed for breaking his goddamn ‘No Meta’s in Gotham’ rule. How many times did I get lucky because I saved myself, or the Team disobeyed Batman, or the bastard could be bothered to remember about his fucking partner? How long did Jason stay silent because he believe Batman was coming to the rescue.”

The night was heavy around them, the question churning unwelcoming thoughts through Clark’s mind at the implications. To know that these young heroes had chosen pain and terror and captivity – and in Jason’s case, death – because they worried about making the Batman, _their father_ , angry. How many times had Dick and Jason turned away aid because of their training? Their _conditioning_.

 _A Good Soldier._ Dear God! Was that all they were to Bruce? Child soldiers in his mission against the criminal elements of Gotham? How blind had Clark been to what was going on with Bruce and his sons? No… son.

“Dick.” Clark hesitate to break the stillness that had fallen between them, but his mind would not settle now that it had latched on to something. “What did you mean when you said you’ve never been Bruce’s kid?”

The other man gave a careless shrug. “Just that. Bruce never adopted me; I was only a foster.”

“But he adopted Jason?” Clark’s heart ached for Dick when the boy nodded.

“For his thirteenth birthday, about six months after Jay came to live with us.” Came the answer. “I asked him once why he never even tried to adopt me. Told me that he was too young back then, too obsessed with the beginning of his career as Batman. ‘I never gave it much thought’, he’d said.”

“And even after you brought it up, he never tried?” Clark asked, appalled. 

“We never spoke of it again.” Dick admitted with a weary sigh. “We started having problems not long after that. Jason had been training with us for about a year by that point and he started going out as Robin with Batman. I’d taken on the mantle of Nightwing and was spending more time working with the Team and helping the League. Bruce was… annoyed. I’d changed, grown up, and liked the independence Nightwing gave me. We were fighting more often than not.”

“And was this the first time he’d ever hit you?” Clark actually growled the question when he looked over at the vivid bruising.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.” Dick tried to rationalize. “I was… Batman came back from patrol last night and I… I’d just seen Jason’s grave and was furious he had buried my little brother without me, without giving me the chance to say good-bye. As soon as he was out of the Batmobile… I hit him first, Clark. I was screaming at him, and hitting and kicking and he…”

_“When you didn’t listen to me, your injuries weren’t fatal. Of course, by the time I properly trained you-“_

_“Are you blaming me? I grew up, so Jason replaced me. And because I stopped obeying your every command he died? No way, you asshole! Jason wasn’t me. I was a trained acrobat. I could think quickly in dangerous situations. But why did you let him become Robin before he was ready!”_

**_“Don’t you dare blame me for Jason’s death! Don’t you dare!”_ **

“He only hit me the one time.” Dick’s hand reached up and his fingers brushed against the right side of his face. “He forgot he was wearing the suit still, I think. His cowl was down, but he was still in the full Batman get-up. He had avoided retaliating before, just defended himself and blocked while I took swing after swing at him, but I guess I pushed him too far again.”

“He hit you while wearing the gauntlet!?” The hiss came through snarling teeth and Clark fought the desire to race to Gotham to tear Bruce Wayne apart. “Nothing you could have said or done justified him hitting you with a weapon!”

“It was his glove!”

“It’s Kevlar-Nomex weave with carbon-titanium plating that can be electrified with 1,200 volts!” Clark cupped the side of Dick’s face tenderly in his palm and turned the young man’s face toward him. His thumb brushed against the scabs on the lips. “He hit you hard enough that you were bleeding, Dick. And do you even realize that he fractured three of the bones in your cheek?”

As if put off by the comfort, Dick pulled back from Clark and looked away. “Honestly, I haven’t been feeling much of anything since I found out about Jay. It’s all just… numb.”

Clark sighed. “What happened next, Dick?”

The tale continued after a few seconds of indecision. “His hit had me on the floor of the cave. He was mad, madder than I had ever seen him before. The things he was saying… I didn’t recognize him, Clark…”

_“Why did I think I needed a partner? They slow you down! They make you worry about them rather than doing your job! He wouldn’t listen. He wanted to do everything his way. He was **just like you!** In a few years I would have had to replace him, as I did you! Why are you pretending to be concerned about Jason? You told me you resented that I had adopted him and **not you**!”_

_“No, I didn’t, I only asked why you adopted him.”_

_“We’ve gone over this before, Dick, and I’m not interested in continuing this conversation. I suggest you leave. Give your keys to Alfred on your way out. I don’t need a partner. I **never** should have had one. And I **never** will again.” _

“I just sat there for a few minutes.” Dick sounded so shattered. “When I made my way up into the manor Alfred was there waiting for me. He was crying when he told me he’d been instructed to allow me a single bag for what belongings I could carry then escort me to the front gate. He apologised to me constantly, promising to talk to ‘Master Bruce’, but as much as I love Alfred he will never go against Bruce’s wishes.”

“Bruce kicked you out.” Clark felt ill. “Why didn’t you go to the Mountain, or the Watchtower?”

“I tried.” Was the bitter reply. “I wandered into Gotham and just before sunrise I made it to the Zeta point. Except by the time I got there my access had been revoked.”

“What!”

“We’ve fought before, hell he’s even kicked me out before, but this time it’s for real.” Dick motioned to the backpack sitting on the old sofa behind them, a tiny smile at the sight of one of the barn kittens kneading at it before curling up to sleep. “That’s everything I own. A few sets of clothes and what money I had in my wallet. All my cards have been cancelled, my accounts frozen, and I don’t have a single piece of my Nightwing gear. Not even my Team communicator. And as I was only a foster, and I’m now eighteen, I’ve aged out of the system.”

“Dick-”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” He rushed on, interrupting anything Clark had been about to stay. “I just wandered; hitch a ride or two with no real destination. That’s how I ended up in Metropolis. I thought about going back to Haly’s – Pop would want me – but they’re on the European leg of the tour and I don’t have the money to get there. I considered giving Wally a call, but he and Arty are just getting settled in their new apartment and wouldn’t want me getting in their way. I know where Roy is, but he’s still searching for the other Roy and not going to want me tagging along.”

 _Want me…_ Clark closed his eyes against the heartache he felt on behalf of the man beside him. “I want you here, Dick.”

“You don’t want me sticking around.” Dick stated with a half-hearted shrug that did nothing to conceal the pain he was obviously feeling. “You’ve got the Planet, the League, the whole world counting on you. You don’t want my gypsy ass screwing up your life.”

“If I ever hear you call yourself that word again,” Clark took hold of Dick’s chin softly between his fingers and turned Dick to look at him again. “I will wash your mouth out with soap. And don’t tell me what I want, Dick Grayson. I want you somewhere safe, somewhere you can be taken care of.”

“This is why I didn’t call you or any one else in the League.” Dick huffed, staring up into Clark’s unwavering gaze but not turning away this time. “You all just see me as this kid, someone that has to be protected because they can’t take care of themselves.”

“That’s not what I see.” Clark shook his head. “I see a hero that puts the lot of us to shame with just how naturally amazing he is. I see a young man who has seen the darkest corners of this world and can still smile and love and hope. I see someone who just lost a brother and is hurting in ways that would break a weaker man. I don’t think you _can’t_ take care of yourself I just think you shouldn’t have to. I _want you_ here with me, Dick.”

“Why?” His eyes were pooling with fresh tears, glistening in the starlight as his voice choked in his throat. “I – I’m no good, Clark. Jason is gone and its my fault, because I couldn’t be what Bruce needed, what he wanted.”

“Then Bruce is a fool.” He responded earnestly and with hesitation. “A bastard for daring to lay a hand on you in anger and an asshole for making you feel less than the incredible man you’ve grown into. You and Jason were never his soldiers, Dick; you were meant to be his sons. His ‘mission’ has taken one of you away from us, but I’ll be damned if I let it take you too.”


	2. Part II

**_Smallville, Kansas_ **

**_May 04, 2014 (09:00 EST)_ **

The sun was higher in the sky than he usually allowed before he got to his chores. With his mother in DC and him spending most of his days in Metropolis, Clark typically got the work on the farm completed within the first hour after sunup. Today, however, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He was still sitting on the floor of the barn loft, looking out over the sun-basking field through the open doors, his back against the frame with his legs stretched out in front of him. But it was the head on his lap that kept him in place.

The pair had talked for hours, Dick falling asleep when the night sky had started to lighten with the approaching dawn. He had laid out beside Clark, his head pillowing on the older man’s thighs as Clark’s fingers carded through dark strands of hair without conscious thought. The lines of grief and anguish fell away from the man’s face with sleep and Clark refused to wake him now that Dick was finally resting.

A few minutes ago, he had heard the chime from his League communicator left inside the house but knew if it were important, they would be able find him. His thoughts were returning to the situation in Gotham when he heard the arrival of someone moving at super-speed.

“Clark?” Conner’s voice echoed around the farm, the noise causing Dick to shift and moan at the disturbance.

Clark continued to stroke Dick’s scalp through the hair as he answered, his voice pitched so low only Conner’s enhanced hearing would be able to pick it up. “In the loft. Come slow, quiet.”

“Something’s going on in Gotham.” Conner’s equally hushed voice preluded the clone’s entrance into the barn.

“I know.” He answered with an exhale of air that could be mistaken for a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated? Batman’s saying Robin’s dead and Nightwing quit and no one’s see- Oh!” Conner stopped his climb on the stairs when he saw who was with Clark. Without another word he took the last few steps and slumped into the sofa, staring at his friend with sad eyes. “Is it true?”

“About Jason?” Clark nodded, feeling that familiar ache in his heart at the Conner’s expression fall. “Dick told me last night. Apparently, it happened while you all were in Kazakhstan.” 

“And they’re just telling us now?” Conner’s voice raised angrily as he leveled a glare at the sleeping hero.

Dick shifted again, his face scrunching in distress. The need to protect the younger man was nearly overwhelming and Clark returned a glare of his own at the half-Kryptonian. “Bruce never told him either, Kon-El. Dick found out when he got home after the assignment and saw _his brother’s_ grave.”

Conner’s anger crumbled and his voice quieted again. “He came to find you?”

With a shake of his head, Clark went back to petting ebony hair when Dick made another low sound of distress in his sleep. “I wish he had. I found him standing on the ledge of roof of the Wayne Financial building in Metropolis last night. He looked like he was going to jump.”

The way Conner stiffened told Clark he’d finally seen the bruising on his friend’s face. “What the hell happened to him.”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

He knew the instant Dick woke up, with his pulse quickening and a subtle change to his breathing. On the surface he hadn’t moved a muscled, as he’d been trained to. Taking quick stock of his surroundings and gauging any possible threat before opening his eyes.

“Morning.” Clark said when incredible blue eyes looked up at him. “Sorry if we woke you.”

“We?” Dick flicked his eyes around until he saw the other teen sitting on the sofa a few feet away. “Oh. Hi Conner.”

“Hey, Dick.” Conner greeted solemnly. “I’m sorry about Jason.”

Clark wanted to cringe at the lack of tact, but he was sadly use to it by this point. His little brother had never been one for subtlety. Dick didn’t say anything, just nodded. Clark was surprised by the sudden sensation of loss he felt when the young man sat up and pulled away from him.

The trio moved into the farmhouse where Clark directed Dick to the shower while he and Conner went to the kitchen. Clark was puttering around, making a light breakfast for the three of them, listening to the running water that did nothing to hide the sound of Dick’s soft sobs from their inhuman hearing. But for their friend, the two Kents would pretend.

“Was he serious, Clark.” Conner said as he took some plates from the cupboard and set them out on the small island. “About jumping. And don’t give me this crap about not being your story to tell. You can’t keep it quiet if he’s suicidal.”

“No, thank god.” He cracked a couple of eggs into the frying pan while he answered, proud at how far the Superboy had come in the past few years. “I misread the situation; he was trying to figure out what he was going to do. Bruce kicked him out and rescinded his access to the Zeta tubes.”

“Was that before or after Batman broke his face?” When Clark turned to look at Conner, the youngest Kent just shrugged. “I’m not an idiot, Clark. If it had been one of their rogues you would have said. And as tough as Agent A is, he would die rather than harm Dick. Besides you – and a blind man can see you wouldn’t hurt him – who else has he been around?”

“You can’t say anything, Conner. Dick doesn’t want anyone else to know.” Clark sighed again – he’d been doing a lot of that in the last twelve hours – and went back to the eggs.

“The Team deserves to know if Batman is beating the shit out of our Leader.” Conner snarled. “So does the League if one of their own is beating the shit out of his kids. Tell me the truth, Clark: did Batman kill Jason?”

The spatula snapped in half and the handle of the cast iron pan crumbled in Clark’s fist at the question. He turned and gaped horrified at the all too serious clone behind him. “What the hell kind of question is that Conner!”

“A valid one.” Conner insisted, folding his arms over his chest. “I’ve seen them training in the Mountain, Clark. I’ve seen how hard he pushes them, the perfection he demands of them. I’ve heard the fights between Batman and his _partners_. I know how that bastard puts his crusade ahead of everything and everyone to the detriment of all else. Is it that far of a stretch that, blinded by his zealousness, he allowed Jason to slip? Make a mistake, have an accident? I know he’s done it to Dick in the past as a lesson to do better. To _be_ better. So, tell me: did Batman get Robin killed?”

There was a time when Clark would have been the first to defend Bruce from such an accusation. But knowing what he did now, the lengths the man would go for his _mission_ , the fact that he would lay a hand on Dick the way he did… the words nearly choked him and he realized he couldn’t say for certain what Conner said wasn’t true.

“It was the Joker.” Clark shook his head and tossed the broken pieces into the sink, turning and leaning his back against the counter. “That’s all I know, all Dick knows. Joker had Robin for two days before an explosion killed him.”

“Goddamn it.” Conner winced in sympathy and Clark couldn’t fault him for that. They had all heard the stories, read the casefiles, seen the scars on all three Bats. They knew what someone like the Joker would do with a Robin for that long. After two days, Jason had probably been begging for death.

The two stood in silence for a minute, the shower still running above them but thankfully the crying had stopped. Conner went back to gathering the dishes and utensils while Clark began their breakfast again. After another minute, Conner spoke again.

“The others deserve to know, Clark.”

“I know.” The elder hero agreed. “But Dick asked me not to say anything. He told me the League needs Batman. What happened will just draw a line between him and Bruce and have people taking sides. He think’s it’ll divide the Team and the League needlessly.” 

“There won’t be much of divide.” Conner scoffed and got a pitcher of juice from the fridge. “Diana will be out for blood as soon as she see’s Dick’s face, more so when she finds out who’s responsible. So will J’onn and M’gann as soon as they feel his grief – hell, I’m not psychic and I can feel it radiating off him! Dinah will want to rip Batman’s balls off; she adores Dick and absolutely loved Jason. Everyone preferred those two over Batman. Except maybe Guy, but he’s just an asshole.”

“And that’s why we can’t say anything.” Clark finished up the eggs and transferred them into a serving dish. “The last thing Dick needs is a war between Batman and the rest of the Hero community.” They listened as the shower shut off and shared a look. They would hold their tongues for now, but both knew if Batman – if Bruce made another move against Dick there would be hell to pay.

The three ate breakfast in silence, Dick lost in thought and neither Kent knowing what to say. Conner departed by noon, giving his oldest friend a comforting hug as he promised to tell the others that he was okay and just needed some time to process. Dick obviously appreciated it, but Clark could see Dick’s relief when his teammate left for Happy Harbour.

Clark had called Perry while Conner had still been there, telling his boss that there had been a death in the family and would be taking all of his owed vacation days and possibly longer. While Dick and Conner had been hanging out with the kittens in the barn, Clark sat down in the office and contacted Diana.

The Amazon was a strong presence, even through the vid-screen. “ _I’m glad you called, Kal-El. Kon-El_ _has told you the news?_ ”

“I already knew.” Clark admitted wearily, leaning back in the desk chair. “I came across Dick last night in Metropolis.”

The formidable woman’s features softened as did her tone. “ _How is he_?”

“Not good, Diana.” He admitted sadly. “I can’t tell you everything, Dick has asked for my discretion, but what I can is bad enough. You’ve known Bruce longer; explain to me how he could keep something like this from everyone, but especially Dick? Jason was his brother, Diana, and Bruce had him buried without telling Dick anything! He came home to find a memorial for ‘A Good Soldier’ in the Batcave and a fresh grave in the cemetery!”

Diana frowned. _“Batman told us nothing beyond Jason’s passing, Dick’s resignation as Nightwing and departure from Gotham, and that Batman was shutting down **His** **City** to all other Heroes.”_

“Dick didn’t resign.” Clark spat, his eyes burning with more than just anger as he envisioned the Dark Knight standing before him. “Bruce kicked him out of not only the Cave but the Manor as well when Dick confronted him about Jason. And If you check the League security logs, you’ll find Batman prevented Nightwing from accessing the Zeta tubes.”

He waited as the woman did just that and saw the moment she saw the truth in his words. “ _By Hera, what is that man thinking! For Dick to discover Jason’s death, followed immediately by his father’s betrayal, only to have his home and only safe haven ripped from him all in a single night… even the strongest of warriors would waver in the face of such anguish.”_

“A father’s betrayal, in more way than one.” Clark glanced toward the barn where he looked through the walls to watch as the two young heroes were being mauled by a half dozen tiny kittens. “Did you know Bruce never adopted him? Only Jason.”

“ _That can’t be right._ ” Diana shook her head, aghast. “ _To make one a son but not the other; even the Batman would not be so cruel!_ ”

“I’m beginning to realize we know very little about the man behind the cowl, Princess.” Clark turned back to the screen, his determination playing across his face. “I’m keeping Dick here in Kansas with me. I won’t leave him unless something urgently requires Superman’s involvement. Dick deserves to be put first for once.”

The woman’s face was warm and fond, a secret smile tugging at her full lips. “ _You are a good man, Kal-El. Trust that we will care for the world while you care for him. Let me know how he’s doing, please._ ” 

After Conner left, the two spent the afternoon walking the fields. Dick’s sorrow was right below the surface, but he covered it with trained precision. The talked about Jason, stories the Clark had heard before but listened to again as he relished the love he could hear in the young man’s voice as he spoke of his brother. There was soft laughter, a few silent tears, and at some point, Clark found his hand reaching for Dick’s and letting their fingers weave together as they walked.

The sun was setting, and they were miles from the farm. The leaves of Burnham Woods darkened the sky around them, but neither seemed in any hurry to return to the house. They had been quiet for nearly thirty minutes, the stillness comfortable between them, before Dick finally slowed once they could make out sun-stained water of Crater Lake through the trees.

“Jason once told me this was his favorite place on the planet.” Dick whispered against the soft breeze coming off the lake. “He’d never been out of Gotham before, born and raised in Crime Alley before Bruce took him in. As soon as your mom found out about another Wayne orphan, she insisted on us coming out for the weekend. Bruce didn’t want us to come, but I brought him out with Conner anyway. Jay could never believe how _tranquil_ everything was here, how something so innocent and good could still exist in the world that created people like Two-Face and Joker. Like Batman. He said that it made perfect sense for someone like Superman to have been born in a place like this.”

“To be fair, I was born in a galaxy far, far away.” Clark joked lightly. He had never known about that weekend but wasn’t surprised. It was something Martha Kent would have done.

Dick allowed himself a little smile, though there were tears in his eyes again. “Conner brought us out here. It was snowing and the lake was partially frozen over and Jason just… stared. He had to have been freezing, but every time Conner and I tried to get him to go back to the farm he wouldn’t move. He stood here for hours, watching the snow and ice and water, and smiling the entire time.”

Clark reached out and wiped the tear that fell when the younger man blinked.

“He wanted to see the world, Cark.” Dick’s voice was thick and choked by emotion. “He had a list tucked away in an old atlas he _borrowed_ from the public library before I knew him. He had hundreds of cities across the world circled, pages dogeared so he could find the map he wanted and plan the trips he would take when he was older. Even after he moved into the Manor, he never stopped adding new places he wanted to visit.”

Hearing the grief building, Clark lightly tugged their still joined hands and drew Dick toward him. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist, Dick’s back against Clark’s chest, keeping their hands together as they continued to look out through the trees to the water.

“Three years.” Dick shook his head, sending a few tears down his face and dropping onto Clark’s arms. “He was the son of a billionaire, for chrissake, and he still never left Gotham for anything other than _the mission_. Him and me, we were going to change that. We’d been planning a road trip for months. He would have been sixteen in August and we were going to spend the entire month driving, seeing all the small out of the way tourist traps in the country, camping and goofing around and just being brothers. No Capes, no villains, no Batman. He wanted that, Clark, I wanted that! I wanted… I want… I want him! I want him back! Oh god, Clark, I want my brother back!”

Dick’s body sagged in Clark’s hold as his legs gave out beneath him. Clark curled around the sobbing boy, taking all the weight with ease as Dick shattered. His tears fell on their arms, his fingers clutching Clark’s in what would have been a painful grip if Clark had been anyone else. Chest heaving, voice cracking…

Dick screamed.

The sound tore across the water, scattering bird from their nests, shattering the tranquility with his grief.

His loss.

His pain.

Clark's tears flowed freely, soundlessly falling into Dick’s hair. The younger man was gasping for air around great sobs that wracked his entire being. Heart breaking for his friend, Clark listened and watched; a silent witness as the light inside Dick Grayson went dark.


	3. Part Three

**_ Part III _ **

**_Smallville, Kansas_ **

**_May 04, 2014 (20:30 EST)_ **

When the last of the tears came and all that remained were the dried tracks on their cheeks, Clark shifted so he was bracing Dick’s back with one arm and lifting him under his legs with the other. Holding him cradled against his chest, Dick’s arms instinctively wrapped around Clark’s shoulders and buried his face against Clark’s neck.

In seconds Clark had them back at the farm, carrying the soul weary man into the house and up the stairs to Clark’s old bedroom. Wordlessly and with great care, Clark set Dick on the edge of the mattress and went into the bathroom across the hall. He returned a minute later with a glass of water and a warm, damp cloth in his hand.

Dick hadn’t moved. He stared unseeing at the wood floor beneath his feet, his hands lax in his lap, his face a picture of such heartache that it twisted something inside Clark to see it on Dick’s beautiful face. Clark knelt before the younger man, setting the glass on the nightstand, and used the soft cloth to wipe the traces of Dick’s grief from his face.

After a few tender strokes, Dick lifted his red rimmed eyes and met Clark’s sympathetic gaze. They both knew what it felt to lose someone so close; for them to one day be there and gone the next, the emptiness and hollow ache that never seemed to fade.

Clark didn’t stop him when Dick drew the cloth into his own hand, reaching across the scant space between them and wiping away the remnants of Clark’s own tears. He didn’t look away from those searching ocean eyes when the cloth was set aside, and Dick’s palm was cupping Clark’s cheek. Clark reached up and placed his own over Dick’s hand.

“What do you need, Dick?” He asked in a whisper, unwilling to break the serenity that seemed to be filling the room around them.

With their free hands, Dick interlaced their fingers and gently pulled. Clark went with the unspoken request, shifting from his crouched position to his knees, and inserted himself between Dick’s thighs when they were parted for him. The other man leaned in closer, their mouths less than an inch apart and their eyes open. Dick stopped there; his breath warm against Clark’s lips as he waited for Clark to stop him.

He should.

Dick was so much younger than him. Technically an adult, but still only just turned eighteen and he was in so much pain. It would be easy to explain Dick’s actions as prompted by grief, to rationally deny what he was seeking, but Clark remembered all too well the need to feel something – anything – good after being broken by death.

And Clark would be lying to himself if he said he’d never thought about the young hero as something more than a friend. He had caught himself watching Nightwing – watching Dick – when he grew from a wiry teen into a strong and beautiful man. He was lean and muscled, all traces of baby fat gone from his face and body after years of training and discipline. He was a sculpted Adonis and Clark was human enough to have wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To taste him.

So, he did.

It was tentative, chaste, careful of the healing lips; soft and light and infinitely _more_ than Clark could have imagined.

Dick’s lips were silky and supple and vastly different from kissing a woman. The stubble of his face scratched lightly across Clark’s chin as their mouths slowly began to move. Dick’s eyes fluttered closed, his thumb tracing over Clark’s cheekbone. It wasn’t intense or pooling with desire, but it was intimate and affection. Their mouth’s parted, lips working in perfect sync, sharing breath and it was Dick who changed the dynamic of that first kiss.

Lips still touching and moving together, the tip of Dick’s moist tongue swept across Clark’s lower lip, drawing back after only a second of touch as if daring Clark to follow. Clark let his eyes drift shut as he reciprocated, deepening the kiss when his own tongue chased into Dick’s open mouth and flicked across Dick’s taste buds. The hand on Clark’s cheek slid around to the back of his head, fisting in his hair as Dick’s tongue was gliding over Clark’s. He dropped his hand to Dick’s waist, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of the t-shirt until it rode up and he was touching bare skin even as he was licking and tasting.

Clark was almost thrown by how _right_ kissing the younger man felt. How everything seemed to finally fall in to place and how the world suddenly made perfect sense. And how he wanted _more_. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, his arms were tightening around the slender waist and bringing their bodies as close as possible. Chest to chest, and mouth to mouth, the air in their lungs mingled into a single breath, he could not remember a time where he felt so captivated by the touch of another.

Before the need for Dick to breathe became an issue, Clark withdrew from Dick’s intoxicating lips. “Dick, are you-”

“Yes.” Dick’s kiss-swollen lips consented as his chest was heaving with every draw of air. Without the slightest hesitation, Dick stretched his arms over his head as he removed his shirt. Then slowly, giving Clark the out if he wanted it, he began to untuck the undershirt from Clark’s jeans.

Once the fabric had been taken off, Clark rose from his knees and onto the bed beside Dick. They lay on their sides facing the other, Dick tucked into the space between Clark’s arms, and Clark gave in to the urge to kiss him again. His hands explored the body exposed to him, his fingers tracing the lines of the muscles of Dick’s chest and back. Dick’s palms ghosted over every inch of Clark’s torso, leaving his skin tingling with fire.

“Rao…” The quiver that ran up his spine, when Dick’s hand slithered into his jeans and was rubbing his cock through his briefs, had his breath hitching against the other’s open mouth. He’d been touched before, but never with a hand as heavy and strong as the one on him now. The palm pressed against the shaft, a steady rhythm that had Clark’s hips arching forward searching for _more._ Dick’s tongue plunged past Clark’s parted lips, stroking Clark’s own muscle in sync with every pass of his hand. Then the hand slipped beneath the briefs and he felt the warm skin on the length of his cock.

His body was melting with the touch, heat spreading through him like nothing he had every felt before. Following the instinct that had been guiding him thus far, he let his hands slide down Dick’s back and beneath the waistbands of Dick’s pants and underwear. The curve of Dick’s ass fit perfectly in his palm, as if it had been molded explicitly for him and only him. He gently squeezed and massaged and was pleased by the soft mewl that vibrated through Dick’s chest when he trailed a single finger down the cleft and over the hidden hole.

The kiss broke, moans filled the quiet of the room, and Clark drew them closer until their body’s were flush together. Dick moved the fabric of their clothing out of the way and took both their cocks in hand, their lengths brushing together as he began using their precum as lubricant.

Sensation nearly overwhelmed him, and Clark let his head nestle into the crook of Dick’s neck. His breath was stuttering inside his chest with every sinful stroke of Dick’s strong hand, and his lips moved against the other man’s skin. The musky smell that was uniquely Dick filled Clark’s senses, the saltiness of the skin warm on his tongue as he licked and suckled at the spot just below the hinge of Dick’s jaw.

He wanted – _needed_ – Dick Grayson like he had never wanted anyone before. He reveled in the sounds of pleasure coming from Dick when Clark continued to massage and tease the hole of that perfect ass. There was an urge to claim all of Dick, to touch and taste every inch, to leave a trail of love bites across Dick’s skin for the world to see that this was _mine!_ Clark practically purred with the thought, promising himself to do just that and more when Dick was ready for _more_.

Their hips moved slow, enticingly with each roll that matched the ministrations of Dick’s hand. Clark saw no need to hurry, to allow Dick the time to take them to the cusp of orgasm. He didn’t want it to end, the warmth coiling between them, building and growing, changing the world around them and yet remaining forever just the two of them laid out on Clark’s old bed.

Time fell away and all else was forgotten. Pain, betrayal, anger, loss, mourning; it was all shunted aside as they lost themselves in the feel of the other. In the feel of good, and right, and pleasure, and want. In the heat pooling low in his abdomen and the touch Clark had never known he had been missing. 

“Clark,” Dick breathed against his ear, sounding so _goddamn sexy_ that Clark could only growl in response.

Clark kissed him hard again, their teeth clacking together as he plunged his tongue deep into the warmth of Dick’s mouth. Tongues thrust together, mimicking the motions of their hips and Dick’s hand. It became too much, and Clark felt like his was coming apart as he climaxed. Cum pulsed against the hand between them as he trembled with each shockwave of pleasure. Dick tensed against him, body tight and jerking as he joined Clark with a breathless cry. The hand continued to stroke them both until they were spent, their body’s shivering and lax and perfectly melded together.

With lazy, sated caresses of his fingers on their sensitive lengths, Dick softened the kiss between them while he murmured tenderly against Clark’s lips in a language Clark did not know. The tone of the words sent a thrill of fondness through him and he gently tightened his hold on the man in his arms.

“Fuck…” Clark exhaled into Dick’s open mouth and his hand continued to lightly knead the muscles of the ass beneath his hand. 

Dick’s chest vibrated against his own with a low chuckle. “Next time…”

Minutes later, cleaned up and divested of all remaining clothing, the pair lay naked together in the dark of the master bedroom with the covers tucked around them. Dick’s head was nestled against Clark’s shoulder, an arm and leg draped over Clark’s body as Clark held him in his arms. Dick’s eyes were closed but Clark knew he wasn’t sleeping, so he dipped his head and kissed the crest of dark hair.

Dick hummed softly, burrowing deeper into Clark’s arms. “Is this going to be weird in the morning?”

The worry and self-reproach were heavy in the younger man’s words and Clark’s heart clenched with the sound. “Only if we let it be weird.”

“I don’t want it to be weird.” Dick admitted and pressed his lips against the steel of Clark’s chest. “I’ve fantasized about this for years – honestly, what teenager hasn’t? – but its more than just… This wasn’t about grieving or feeling alone – well, maybe a little but… I care about you, Clark. I have for a while now and not as just as a mentor, or older brother of one of my best friends, or even as a friend yourself. I don’t know exactly what it is, but this… I don’t want it to be weird.”

Clark felt the smile on his face and realized he couldn’t remove it if he wanted to. He combed his fingers through Dick’s hair, relishing in the feel of the man going practically boneless against his side with the motion. “I’ll admit, I never would have thought of being with a man like this. But something’s different about you, Dick. It should be weird because I’ve known you since you were, like, twelve, but it doesn’t feel weird. It feels… l think, they’ve always been there, these feelings I’m having for you, but I never let myself acknowledge them because... well, yeah.”

“You can say it.” He felt the amusement in Dick’s statement and chuckled.

“Fine, because you were just a kid. No, not a kid…” Clark took gentle hold of Dick’s chin in his free hand and tilted it up to look at him. Dick’s eyes blinked open and stared into Clark’s. “You were young, Dick, but I’ve never really seen you as a child. You are a fighter – strong and capable – and the things you’ve witnessed and done and have had done to you… I don’t believe you’ve been a child for a long time.”

Dick accepted Clark’s mouth against his own when Clark leaned down to kiss him. It was open and filled with everything he was trying to say and unable to express in words. A moment passed and when the kiss ended it left Clark with a sense of _right_ and _more_.

Hair tickled his chest when Dick settled into the crook of his arm, head resting against on Clark’s shoulder once more. “I want this.” Dick whispered into the dark. “I don’t know what I’m going to do - no home, no family, no job – but whatever comes next I want it to be with you.”

Clark kissed the top of Dick’s head and wrapped his arms protectively around the other man. “You have family, Dick. The Team, the League; they’ll always be there for you. And me. I want to see where this goes too, Dick, what we can have. So, you can have me too for as long as you want me.”

**Author's Note:**

> ** The dialogue of the flashbacks were taken from The New Titans (1988) #55. **


End file.
